Chapter 1: We didn't know where we would be jumping, except that it would be several miles inland of the invasion beaches and in the middle of German defenders.

On May 29, the United States will dedicate the National World War II Memorial on the National Mall in Washington, D.C. On June 6, the world will observe the 60th anniversary of D-Day, the invasion of France that led to the end of the war in Europe. In this five-part Newspaper-in-Education series, Don Reiland tells the story of how, as a paratrooper in the D-Day operation, he jumped behind enemy lines to support the troops coming ashore at Normandy, Reiland, who grew up in Darien, Conn., is now retired in Orinda, Calif.

As we prepared to board our planes on the evening of June 5, 1944, it was still light because of British Double-Daylight Time. The airport in England was a gigantic sight as hundreds of planes churned their motors with a roar that shook my already nervous stomach.

Strapped into a parachute harness, barely able to walk under the weight of a hundred pounds of weapons and explosives, then pushed up into the plane, I was overwhelmed by the enormity of the event that would propel us that evening. Nothing could stop it. I felt infinitesimal, as astronauts must have felt later as they were about to roar into space. The astronauts, of course, knew a good deal about where they were going. My comrades and I in the 82nd Airborne Division knew nothing about what awaited us.

General Dwight D. Eisenhower was repeatedly advised that he was sending two fine Airborne divisions to almost certain annihilation -- the 82nd and the 101st. Fortunately, word of this never reached my comrades and me. When Eisenhower bade farewell to the 101st Airborne paratroopers just before they boarded their planes, they could see the strain in his face. They told him: "Don't worry about us General, worry about the Germans because they won't know what hit them!"

In both divisions, all of us had blackened our faces, and some had added warpaint. With our jumpsuits bulging with ammunition, enough plastic explosives to blow up a small bridge, grenades hanging everywhere, we were surely a sight in the twilight as we grunted up the ladders into the planes.

With tears appearing, Ike turned to Maxwell Taylor, the commander of the 101st Airborne, and said: "Max, I don't know if your men will scare the enemy, but they scare the hell out of me!"

After the last plane was airborne, Ike observed: "It's on, and nothing can stop it now!"

As soon as we took our place in the plane most of us promptly discarded our spare parachute because jumping at 500 feet discounted any "second chance." As usual, I used the spare as a pillow as I crunched up on the floor for a nap. The churning up of hundreds of planes overwhelmed conversation, but I don't think anyone felt like talking anyway. The enormity of it all was beginning to sink in and everyone was soon deep into their own thoughts.

One of my concerns was that I might chicken out. The only things that alleviated that horrible prospect were the tacit expectations of my family and friends -- and my determination not to let any of them down.

As our plane taxied down the runway and swung around to get in line for the takeoff, we could see planes everywhere, the entire airport packed with planes. This was many times more planes than during our five rehearsal jumps. Now, seemingly overnight, they had been painted with three white stripes for identification on each wing and the fuselage. It was all so different, and thus upsetting.

The roar of hundreds of motors was absolutely deafening. For the first few years after the war my stomach would churn whenever I went to an airport. But it was "GO," and there was no turning back. We were on our way to who knows where and in a couple of hours we would meet the enemy. It was gigantic, and I felt small and vulnerable.

As our plane circled for hours, I finally assured myself that nothing would deter me -- I was going out that door. By now, my fear of jumping was minor. But it didn't help to recall that this jump would be my 13th.